Post by cyriddle on Jul 12, 2023 10:20:10 GMT -5
“I must say, Mr. Riddle, I feel like your progress thus far has been on a steady incline with zero signs of regressing.I have to say that I expected more resistance than what I am getting.”
Dr. Brink spoke matter of factly whilst looking at Cy over the bridge of her lowered black glasses, with the ball point of her pen pressed gently against the notepad which routinely sat on the arm of her black leather office chair. It was not uncommon for her to take sporadic notes, although she made conscious efforts to not form a habit of it, as she felt it would deter her attention away from her clients. The consummate professional, she checked all of the atmospheric boxes off in her office with flare. The dim lighting and ambient music lent to the outer senses being comforted, which were welcoming traits to Riddle. In addition, he could clearly see the results of his pretreatment “comfort survey” come to fruition, as the room never failed to deliver a wonderful blend of fresh books and coffee through his nostrils, which gave him an incredible sense of peace.
These weekly visits had become part of his journey to remedying his perceived ills. In his moments of deep reflection, Cy had not fooled himself into believing he was without many faults and could have navigated through life and social relationships with more tact and empathy than he had afforded others. In some instances, he had found himself snarling at the actions and words he expressed in those moments, riddling him with forms of regret that could not be forgiven, as those people and moments had long since expired in his life, thus leaving him to learn the art of forgiving himself instead… that alone becoming an issue that felt insurmountable on a good day.
Now, arriving near the one year mark with Dr. Brink, Cy had disciplined his commitment and motives. He had become more positive than before, and felt relieved to discover his dormant philosophical side which he used to pride himself on for so many years as a foundation for his oratory expressions in his professional life.
“Yeah, well, I sought you out for change, and to dissect the person I was to discover who I could be. I don’t like being told what to do, but I also cannot walk away from a challenge. You challenged my commitment from day one and that kept me coming in at first.”
Dr. Brink smiled gently, with a certain hint of pride in her eyes as he affirmed her methods of retaining his business with her.
“Yes, you were not particularly fond of me, my profession, or the faith that you needed to have to think I could even assist you. So, how do you see the changes in that now?”
The Englishman let out a chuckle and briefly looked to the floor, amused.
“Look, I understand your methods, terms, knowledge, and all. This was never about my need to believe in psychiatry. I needed to be somewhere that I could get sound guidance without bias. I needed some positivity introduced, and for someone who was trained for it to actually take the chaos in my head and lay it in front of me for some sort of sense to be made. You were recommended by my sister, Maggie, and that reference was all I needed. Now, I sit here with a deep appreciation and respect for you as a person, and for what you autonomously do as a professional. The aura, the comfort, the mental engagement. You didn’t treat me like a number, nor did you deliver the Psychology 101 methods of getting me to open up. I feel an actual care behind your method.”
“That’s because I do care. I like to see others succeed. When you came here, you were not completely a broken man, but you were on the precipice of it. You had a very negative future outlook, low self-worth, and a facade that was near impenetrable. The only indication that you wanted to be here was that you sat on my couch. I had little to work with, but I wasn’t going to quit on you.”
He sat silent for a few moments, nodding his head. He sat back slightly, locking his hands together and staring ahead at nothing as he could recall his mental state a year ago as if it were yesterday.
“Yeah, I was not in a great place, was I? Honestly, I really didn’t feel a need to live anymore. That’s one of the greatest improvements over the course of this year, is that I went from hopeless and wanting to cease existence, to jumping back into life and experiencing the world I once loved with a different lens to look through. I actually feel a purpose again. I don’t feel like I am at the end, or that I need to hide away. I’m ready to embrace everything as I used to.”
Dr. Brink responded with the kindest smile that expressed her fondness of his renewed life outlook and motivation.
“That’s wonderful, Cyrus, it is. I’m very proud of you, and I hope that you can take the time to really reward yourself for your progression. You need to start acknowledging that your successes do not start and end between ropes. Each day, multiple times a day, we are presented with opportunities to succeed. Like we have discussed and outlined throughout our journey together, some days the successes are what we may deem trivial in other perspectives, such as making yourself a nice meal or having a difficult conversation that you would normally never engage in due to fear of rejection, fallout, or other results. Some days just getting out of bed and stepping outside can be a step in the right direction that needs applause.”
She leaned forward, laying her pen on her notepad and gently placing it on the desk next to her.
“You’ve gone from hiding away on a mountain to getting back into professional wrestling. From radiating misery to adopting a more objective viewpoint and analysis of situations to see the opportunities in them. Just remember that we sometimes seek to atone for our transgressions by overcompensating. We cannot compromise ourselves for our need to make things right, or else they become disingenuous.”
He let her words permeate the air between them. He fully understood the meaning and intention in them, and realized that he could apply this to many facets of his life.
“Also, remember that when it comes to Izzy, you cannot get lost time back, but you can maximize the effectiveness of the time present and future that you have. Do not dwell in the mistakes of the past and forget to live now.”
“Yeah, I won’t be doing that any longer. That was one of the most consuming aspects of my thought process before. So much I wanted to go back and change, yet none of it could be undone. I’m very much at peace with focusing on the now and what’s ahead, and I understand that people will always look at me from their own perspective. Therefore, if they only see the old me, then they will never acknowledge the changes that make me not the monster I once was. I’m breaking the chain, as it were.”
“Exactly, Cyrus. Break the chain, change the game for yourself and your daughter moving forward. Those old instincts will always be there to linger in your mind. Give them their moment, don’t act on them, and then alter your course. You will never completely avoid the internal battle, but you now have the proper arsenal to win the way you want to win.”
He nodded in understanding. She was correct. He had changed his entire perspective. The need for productive, functional decisions and difficult conversations with those he would otherwise avoid were pertinent in his growth. He had always maintained a higher level of self awareness than most of his peers, even if he had let his mind become clouded along the way and needed a way to navigate from the storms.
“That’s it then, yeah? I’ve completed what I needed to complete?”
She began to speak, but paused and nodded with a reassuring smile.
“I would say so, yes. I have the papers for you to sign that will outline the end of care terms as we discussed in the beginning. I feel you have gained yourself back, and in an effort to capitalize on this ‘new you,’ I would suggest you never rest on your laurels. Always evolve, always seek opportunity, and alway do what delivers you the most satisfaction. However, do not slide down that slippery slope of regression. Sometimes, one old habit can lead to a complete loss of the work you’ve done. Be conscious, be thought provoking, and set yourself up for the success you earn.”
===============================================================
66 Boerum Pl
Brooklyn, NY 11201
“Time is a cruel, indiscriminate, masterful power over us all. Time subtracts years, adds heartache, multiplies experiences, and divides our souls. Is it not convenient that some of our happiest moments feel fleeting, yet our despair seemingly lingers endlessly? Time restructures the world around us, reshapes our perceptions, and forces our hand to use it as wisely as possible, or else suffer the regret associated with wasting.”
The current optic void becomes filled with the point of view shot of what appears to be a random Planet Fitness. Cyrus Riddle inconspicuously sits on a bench across the street, right calf resting on his left knee with his arms stretching across the back on both sides while he firmly remains dead center of the bench. Sans hat and jewelry in a contrast from his last appearance on camera to discuss his upcoming match, Riddle sits with tattoos on display and a black v-neck t-shirt.
“Time, depending on the hour, can leave you vulnerable. This used to be one of the most feared areas of Brooklyn. Now, its gentrification has lent to it being one of the destinations of New York. I preferred the old Brooklyn, honestly. This Planet Fitness across the street, that was once my sanctuary. Before the current occupants took over, it was known as Nyte Wrestling Academy, and it was my destination eighteen years ago. See, when I stepped foot on American soil, I needed a home. There were minimal options locally, and it just so happened that through some familial ties, I was brought into the Nyte fold by its two head members and trainers, Eddie Arctica and Rissa Montoya. Thus, the genesis chapter of the Book of Cy was written.”
“Now, here we are. Time has afforded me many trials, many tribulations, some monumental victories, and heartbreaking losses. But, it all was for a purpose. I’ve become molded by those experiences. I took the cruelty and made it work in my favor. I held my arms open and embraced the unforgiving sands in the hourglass, only to now be in control of my time.”
Riddle drops his right leg, planting both feet to the sidewalk. Leaning forward, he presses his hands together, resting his forehead on the tips of his index fingers while gazing into camera.
“Trust that I am more than understanding of how arrogant that sounds. I’ve never been one to deny my own hubris in discussions of self-actualization, but that is a trait rooted in my belief that we are all our own gods. I believe that I can control my personal flows of time, what’s done in those flows, and how it determines my future. At a previous point in time when I had given up, I would have withered away from the humiliation that Amber Mansley created by forcing me into a disqualification victory due to a not so accidental kick to bollocks. No… we don’t wither away from minor inconveniences. What do we do? We get even. See, now we are on the road to Summer Madness, and Amber Mansley’s cowardice has rewarded me with a no disqualification match against her at the event, in what will be one of the single greatest instances of delivered karma in history.”
“But, we must not put the cart before the horse,yeah. Because there are foes on the waiting list just gnashing their teeth at the opportunity to get put down by The Impaler. First in line behind that velvet rope, is none other than Justin York.”
Riddle pauses to stand, tucking his hands into his pockets and holding his head high as he looks from one end of the street to the other, partially offended by the tranquil and safe atmosphere of present day Brooklyn in comparison to his history and experience in the area.
“Justin, time was cruel to me in regards to you. See, I’m a man of psychological intrigue. I don’t just accept an opponent and begin preparations such as conditioning and move strategy. No, I want to know what makes my opponent tick. I like to journey inside of the mind and play around a bit to figure out what fuels the fire. However… as it pertains to you, I wish I could get that time back. You are the single least intriguing human being I have ever had the displeasure of being put up against. You’re aesthetic is the antithesis of awe inspiring, your in-ring repertoire serves to the idea of all flash and no substance, and your demeanor is ripped straight from the pages of cookie cutter bad guy wrestling tropes that have all but been eradicated due to ineffectiveness and boredom.”
“Whatever happened to the idea of gravitas, Justin? If your delivery offered the same amount of flash as your moves, we might be white knuckled on the edges of our seats waiting for the next message. But, when I watch you speak, when I hear your words and empty threats over killed by the excessive expletives, I’m left crawling into myself with second hand embarrassment. In the expression of my opponent last week, you are like so cringe, oh my god.”
Cy laughs at his own Amber Mansley impression.
“And even further than that, the realization that you actually believe the rubbish that flies from between your lips, it’s unfathomable to any sound mind listening. So, it’s fortunate for everyone else that you are being delivered to me at Monday Night Brawl. Justin, I am the judgment and deliverer of consequence. I take your empty threats and give them meaning. I am the one who will give you your purpose, albeit not a purpose you wish to fulfill, and make you more relevant in the eyes of the world simply by being part of my story of redemption and ascension.”
Riddle points across the street at the neon purple illumination juxtaposed on the brick building he once called his own training facility.
“I’m fighting against that, against you, and anyone and anything else that represents a lesser than idea of what hard work, determination, and grit actually means. That was church to me, a sacred ground with proven pedigrees of success emanating from its hallowed ring. This business is hallowed to me, and to see you strut about, pretending to be a veteran of twenty years, yet acting as though you just had your first taste of fame by being a gratuitous douchebag, that doesn’t sit well with me. That disrespects the work I put into this. Boys like you undo the progress men like I have made in the way of giving a new shine to this business.”
“If you want to see a spectacle, a compelling exhibition, and experience true grandiosity, you come to see Cyrus Riddle. I am the archetype for all of that. Before I arrived with my aura, this world was plagued by sophomoric insults and elementary level bickering amongst grown men and women. It was I who made you expand your minds and open your worlds up to infinite possibilities and wonder, because that is how we step into the next generation. We hand them the advanced tools, not exemplify regressive ideals and speak so unintelligible that you make my seven year old look like a Ph.D. candidate by comparison. Although, chances are with someone like you, York, she could present a dissertation on all the ways you are pathetic and inferior physically, psychologically, and academically.”
After taking a carefully deep breath and exhaling slowly, Cy shakes his head and looks disgusted before speaking again.
“There is no aspect about this match that you want, Justin. You simply lack everything it takes to contend with a force like me. Whatever plan you devise prior to stepping in the ring with me, I’ll be leaps and bounds ahead of you. Whatever trash you decide to spew, will provide no argument for you posing a legitimate threat to me. You are a child in a teenage boy’s body, posing as a man in a world where survival of the fittest can still be a grand concept that will devour your entire existence. When we step into the ring, I don’t look to simply win. I will expose everything about you that you attempt to hide, I will reveal your vulnerability to the world, and time will be my ally while you experience the slow, torturous eternity of despair from bell to bell. Bring your flash and I will kill the lights.”
Cy holds up his two finger salute to the camera while taking a few steps backward and smirking with confidence. As he turns and walks away slowly, the picture fades to black
Dr. Brink spoke matter of factly whilst looking at Cy over the bridge of her lowered black glasses, with the ball point of her pen pressed gently against the notepad which routinely sat on the arm of her black leather office chair. It was not uncommon for her to take sporadic notes, although she made conscious efforts to not form a habit of it, as she felt it would deter her attention away from her clients. The consummate professional, she checked all of the atmospheric boxes off in her office with flare. The dim lighting and ambient music lent to the outer senses being comforted, which were welcoming traits to Riddle. In addition, he could clearly see the results of his pretreatment “comfort survey” come to fruition, as the room never failed to deliver a wonderful blend of fresh books and coffee through his nostrils, which gave him an incredible sense of peace.
These weekly visits had become part of his journey to remedying his perceived ills. In his moments of deep reflection, Cy had not fooled himself into believing he was without many faults and could have navigated through life and social relationships with more tact and empathy than he had afforded others. In some instances, he had found himself snarling at the actions and words he expressed in those moments, riddling him with forms of regret that could not be forgiven, as those people and moments had long since expired in his life, thus leaving him to learn the art of forgiving himself instead… that alone becoming an issue that felt insurmountable on a good day.
Now, arriving near the one year mark with Dr. Brink, Cy had disciplined his commitment and motives. He had become more positive than before, and felt relieved to discover his dormant philosophical side which he used to pride himself on for so many years as a foundation for his oratory expressions in his professional life.
“Yeah, well, I sought you out for change, and to dissect the person I was to discover who I could be. I don’t like being told what to do, but I also cannot walk away from a challenge. You challenged my commitment from day one and that kept me coming in at first.”
Dr. Brink smiled gently, with a certain hint of pride in her eyes as he affirmed her methods of retaining his business with her.
“Yes, you were not particularly fond of me, my profession, or the faith that you needed to have to think I could even assist you. So, how do you see the changes in that now?”
The Englishman let out a chuckle and briefly looked to the floor, amused.
“Look, I understand your methods, terms, knowledge, and all. This was never about my need to believe in psychiatry. I needed to be somewhere that I could get sound guidance without bias. I needed some positivity introduced, and for someone who was trained for it to actually take the chaos in my head and lay it in front of me for some sort of sense to be made. You were recommended by my sister, Maggie, and that reference was all I needed. Now, I sit here with a deep appreciation and respect for you as a person, and for what you autonomously do as a professional. The aura, the comfort, the mental engagement. You didn’t treat me like a number, nor did you deliver the Psychology 101 methods of getting me to open up. I feel an actual care behind your method.”
“That’s because I do care. I like to see others succeed. When you came here, you were not completely a broken man, but you were on the precipice of it. You had a very negative future outlook, low self-worth, and a facade that was near impenetrable. The only indication that you wanted to be here was that you sat on my couch. I had little to work with, but I wasn’t going to quit on you.”
He sat silent for a few moments, nodding his head. He sat back slightly, locking his hands together and staring ahead at nothing as he could recall his mental state a year ago as if it were yesterday.
“Yeah, I was not in a great place, was I? Honestly, I really didn’t feel a need to live anymore. That’s one of the greatest improvements over the course of this year, is that I went from hopeless and wanting to cease existence, to jumping back into life and experiencing the world I once loved with a different lens to look through. I actually feel a purpose again. I don’t feel like I am at the end, or that I need to hide away. I’m ready to embrace everything as I used to.”
Dr. Brink responded with the kindest smile that expressed her fondness of his renewed life outlook and motivation.
“That’s wonderful, Cyrus, it is. I’m very proud of you, and I hope that you can take the time to really reward yourself for your progression. You need to start acknowledging that your successes do not start and end between ropes. Each day, multiple times a day, we are presented with opportunities to succeed. Like we have discussed and outlined throughout our journey together, some days the successes are what we may deem trivial in other perspectives, such as making yourself a nice meal or having a difficult conversation that you would normally never engage in due to fear of rejection, fallout, or other results. Some days just getting out of bed and stepping outside can be a step in the right direction that needs applause.”
She leaned forward, laying her pen on her notepad and gently placing it on the desk next to her.
“You’ve gone from hiding away on a mountain to getting back into professional wrestling. From radiating misery to adopting a more objective viewpoint and analysis of situations to see the opportunities in them. Just remember that we sometimes seek to atone for our transgressions by overcompensating. We cannot compromise ourselves for our need to make things right, or else they become disingenuous.”
He let her words permeate the air between them. He fully understood the meaning and intention in them, and realized that he could apply this to many facets of his life.
“Also, remember that when it comes to Izzy, you cannot get lost time back, but you can maximize the effectiveness of the time present and future that you have. Do not dwell in the mistakes of the past and forget to live now.”
“Yeah, I won’t be doing that any longer. That was one of the most consuming aspects of my thought process before. So much I wanted to go back and change, yet none of it could be undone. I’m very much at peace with focusing on the now and what’s ahead, and I understand that people will always look at me from their own perspective. Therefore, if they only see the old me, then they will never acknowledge the changes that make me not the monster I once was. I’m breaking the chain, as it were.”
“Exactly, Cyrus. Break the chain, change the game for yourself and your daughter moving forward. Those old instincts will always be there to linger in your mind. Give them their moment, don’t act on them, and then alter your course. You will never completely avoid the internal battle, but you now have the proper arsenal to win the way you want to win.”
He nodded in understanding. She was correct. He had changed his entire perspective. The need for productive, functional decisions and difficult conversations with those he would otherwise avoid were pertinent in his growth. He had always maintained a higher level of self awareness than most of his peers, even if he had let his mind become clouded along the way and needed a way to navigate from the storms.
“That’s it then, yeah? I’ve completed what I needed to complete?”
She began to speak, but paused and nodded with a reassuring smile.
“I would say so, yes. I have the papers for you to sign that will outline the end of care terms as we discussed in the beginning. I feel you have gained yourself back, and in an effort to capitalize on this ‘new you,’ I would suggest you never rest on your laurels. Always evolve, always seek opportunity, and alway do what delivers you the most satisfaction. However, do not slide down that slippery slope of regression. Sometimes, one old habit can lead to a complete loss of the work you’ve done. Be conscious, be thought provoking, and set yourself up for the success you earn.”
===============================================================
66 Boerum Pl
Brooklyn, NY 11201
“Time is a cruel, indiscriminate, masterful power over us all. Time subtracts years, adds heartache, multiplies experiences, and divides our souls. Is it not convenient that some of our happiest moments feel fleeting, yet our despair seemingly lingers endlessly? Time restructures the world around us, reshapes our perceptions, and forces our hand to use it as wisely as possible, or else suffer the regret associated with wasting.”
The current optic void becomes filled with the point of view shot of what appears to be a random Planet Fitness. Cyrus Riddle inconspicuously sits on a bench across the street, right calf resting on his left knee with his arms stretching across the back on both sides while he firmly remains dead center of the bench. Sans hat and jewelry in a contrast from his last appearance on camera to discuss his upcoming match, Riddle sits with tattoos on display and a black v-neck t-shirt.
“Time, depending on the hour, can leave you vulnerable. This used to be one of the most feared areas of Brooklyn. Now, its gentrification has lent to it being one of the destinations of New York. I preferred the old Brooklyn, honestly. This Planet Fitness across the street, that was once my sanctuary. Before the current occupants took over, it was known as Nyte Wrestling Academy, and it was my destination eighteen years ago. See, when I stepped foot on American soil, I needed a home. There were minimal options locally, and it just so happened that through some familial ties, I was brought into the Nyte fold by its two head members and trainers, Eddie Arctica and Rissa Montoya. Thus, the genesis chapter of the Book of Cy was written.”
“Now, here we are. Time has afforded me many trials, many tribulations, some monumental victories, and heartbreaking losses. But, it all was for a purpose. I’ve become molded by those experiences. I took the cruelty and made it work in my favor. I held my arms open and embraced the unforgiving sands in the hourglass, only to now be in control of my time.”
Riddle drops his right leg, planting both feet to the sidewalk. Leaning forward, he presses his hands together, resting his forehead on the tips of his index fingers while gazing into camera.
“Trust that I am more than understanding of how arrogant that sounds. I’ve never been one to deny my own hubris in discussions of self-actualization, but that is a trait rooted in my belief that we are all our own gods. I believe that I can control my personal flows of time, what’s done in those flows, and how it determines my future. At a previous point in time when I had given up, I would have withered away from the humiliation that Amber Mansley created by forcing me into a disqualification victory due to a not so accidental kick to bollocks. No… we don’t wither away from minor inconveniences. What do we do? We get even. See, now we are on the road to Summer Madness, and Amber Mansley’s cowardice has rewarded me with a no disqualification match against her at the event, in what will be one of the single greatest instances of delivered karma in history.”
“But, we must not put the cart before the horse,yeah. Because there are foes on the waiting list just gnashing their teeth at the opportunity to get put down by The Impaler. First in line behind that velvet rope, is none other than Justin York.”
Riddle pauses to stand, tucking his hands into his pockets and holding his head high as he looks from one end of the street to the other, partially offended by the tranquil and safe atmosphere of present day Brooklyn in comparison to his history and experience in the area.
“Justin, time was cruel to me in regards to you. See, I’m a man of psychological intrigue. I don’t just accept an opponent and begin preparations such as conditioning and move strategy. No, I want to know what makes my opponent tick. I like to journey inside of the mind and play around a bit to figure out what fuels the fire. However… as it pertains to you, I wish I could get that time back. You are the single least intriguing human being I have ever had the displeasure of being put up against. You’re aesthetic is the antithesis of awe inspiring, your in-ring repertoire serves to the idea of all flash and no substance, and your demeanor is ripped straight from the pages of cookie cutter bad guy wrestling tropes that have all but been eradicated due to ineffectiveness and boredom.”
“Whatever happened to the idea of gravitas, Justin? If your delivery offered the same amount of flash as your moves, we might be white knuckled on the edges of our seats waiting for the next message. But, when I watch you speak, when I hear your words and empty threats over killed by the excessive expletives, I’m left crawling into myself with second hand embarrassment. In the expression of my opponent last week, you are like so cringe, oh my god.”
Cy laughs at his own Amber Mansley impression.
“And even further than that, the realization that you actually believe the rubbish that flies from between your lips, it’s unfathomable to any sound mind listening. So, it’s fortunate for everyone else that you are being delivered to me at Monday Night Brawl. Justin, I am the judgment and deliverer of consequence. I take your empty threats and give them meaning. I am the one who will give you your purpose, albeit not a purpose you wish to fulfill, and make you more relevant in the eyes of the world simply by being part of my story of redemption and ascension.”
Riddle points across the street at the neon purple illumination juxtaposed on the brick building he once called his own training facility.
“I’m fighting against that, against you, and anyone and anything else that represents a lesser than idea of what hard work, determination, and grit actually means. That was church to me, a sacred ground with proven pedigrees of success emanating from its hallowed ring. This business is hallowed to me, and to see you strut about, pretending to be a veteran of twenty years, yet acting as though you just had your first taste of fame by being a gratuitous douchebag, that doesn’t sit well with me. That disrespects the work I put into this. Boys like you undo the progress men like I have made in the way of giving a new shine to this business.”
“If you want to see a spectacle, a compelling exhibition, and experience true grandiosity, you come to see Cyrus Riddle. I am the archetype for all of that. Before I arrived with my aura, this world was plagued by sophomoric insults and elementary level bickering amongst grown men and women. It was I who made you expand your minds and open your worlds up to infinite possibilities and wonder, because that is how we step into the next generation. We hand them the advanced tools, not exemplify regressive ideals and speak so unintelligible that you make my seven year old look like a Ph.D. candidate by comparison. Although, chances are with someone like you, York, she could present a dissertation on all the ways you are pathetic and inferior physically, psychologically, and academically.”
After taking a carefully deep breath and exhaling slowly, Cy shakes his head and looks disgusted before speaking again.
“There is no aspect about this match that you want, Justin. You simply lack everything it takes to contend with a force like me. Whatever plan you devise prior to stepping in the ring with me, I’ll be leaps and bounds ahead of you. Whatever trash you decide to spew, will provide no argument for you posing a legitimate threat to me. You are a child in a teenage boy’s body, posing as a man in a world where survival of the fittest can still be a grand concept that will devour your entire existence. When we step into the ring, I don’t look to simply win. I will expose everything about you that you attempt to hide, I will reveal your vulnerability to the world, and time will be my ally while you experience the slow, torturous eternity of despair from bell to bell. Bring your flash and I will kill the lights.”
Cy holds up his two finger salute to the camera while taking a few steps backward and smirking with confidence. As he turns and walks away slowly, the picture fades to black